


If You Need Anything

by firstdegreefangirl



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Buck is being all sneaky, Eddie doesn't like it, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Happy Ending, M/M, Secrets, Sneaking Around, Suspicions, The Author Regrets Nothing, the discord hates me for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: Buck starts acting suspicious, running ambiguous "errands" and coming back sad and distant. Eddie assumes the worst, and things fall apart.But you can't put things back together unless they fall apart first.
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 241





	1. "I've Gotta Run an Errand"

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! It's written, it's edited, and here's chapter one! I'm not sure what the upload schedule will be, but expect to see things once a week-ish for a month or so. Enjoy!  
> xoxo

“Hey, I’ve gotta go run an errand.” Buck is pulling his jacket on, smiling at Eddie as he tucks his wallet in his pocket. “Be back in an hour or so. You’ll still be here?” 

It turns Eddie’s heart to mush, every time Buck asks him if he’s going to stay, be it overnight or while he’s gone or after a shower. Because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than wherever Buck is or wherever he’s been, but Buck still looks for the reassurance. 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Enjoy your errand.” Eddie drops onto the couch and turns on Buck’s Xbox as the front door closes. 

* * *

It starts innocently enough. They’ve all but been attached at the hip since their friendship started, so it’s not like Eddie’s uncomfortable alone in Buck’s home. But he’s unaccustomed to Buck leaving in the middle of their afternoon hangouts and coming back an hour and a half later, quieter and more reserved. 

He tries not to think too hard about it, but they’ve been dating for five months when Buck comes home from his “errand” with tearstains on his cheeks. 

“Buck … Evan, _quierdo,_ what’s going on?” Eddie’s on his feet in an instant, meeting Buck at the door and pulling him in for a hug. 

“Nothing, it’s fine.” Buck leans into Eddie’s hold, but refuses to bury his face in the taller man’s neck. “Just … a long end to a long week, is all.” 

“Ev …" 

“Eddie, please. I’m OK. Just let it go? C’mon, man, how about that movie you’ve been wanting to watch?” 

He gives in, letting Buck distract him with an action movie, but doesn’t forget about it. And the next week, when Buck says he’s got an errand, there’s a pit in Eddie’s stomach until he gets back. 

* * *

They don’t tell the rest of the team right away, but a month or so after they open up about their relationship at work, there’s a visible shift in how Buck carries himself. He’s standing taller again, like he did before the tsunami and everything that hit with it, and his smiles reach his eyes more often than they had been. 

Chimney’s the first one to call it out. 

“Eddie, hey man, I don’t know what you’ve done to Buck, and I don’t want to know, so don’t tell me, but whatever it is, it’s working. He’s so much happier; even Maddie’s said he’s been back to himself this last month since you started dating.” He claps Eddie on the shoulder and wanders into the kitchen for a snack. 

“The last month …" Eddie’s brow furrows. He and Buck have been dating for eight months, not one. Then it hits him like a tidal wave – poor choice of words aside. 

_Buck’s been running more “errands” lately._

Which, OK, that’s nothing to write home about on its own. Maybe he’s just buying more fresh produce and it goes bad faster. But he tells Eddie when he’s going to the store or out with Maddie or for dinner with Bobby and Athena. 

This is something else, some unspecified _thing_ he’s not telling Eddie about. And Chim’s right, it’s putting a spring back in his step. 

And it’s not Eddie. 

That night, Buck comes over after shift. He lets himself in with the key Eddie had pressed into his palm on their six-month anniversary, and he’s sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn when he gets back from picking Chris up at school. 

“Hey, I took care of after-school snacks.” 

“Bucky!” Eddie’s heart swells, then shatters. Christopher’s excitement at seeing Buck never fades, but whatever unspoken _thing_ is going on is sure to affect him too. 

He pushes the thought down, in favor of shoving Buck playfully to the middle of the couch to fit between him and his son, hoping he’s wrong about what’s going to happen after dinner. 

But sure enough, after the SpaghettiOs are eaten and the bowls are rinsed out, Buck glances at his phone and over to the door. 

“Hey, Eds. I gotta run for a little bit. Just a quick errand. I’ll be back by 8:30 to help read Chris a story?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie absently presses a kiss to Buck’s cheek and loads the dishwasher as a sense of dread pours over him. 

* * *

As promised, Buck is back for bedtime, and he helps Chris read a chapter from his reading group book for school, then goes back to the kitchen to crack a couple beers while Eddie tucks his son in. 

“Dad?” 

“What’s up, buddy?” 

“Does Bucky seem sad tonight? He was happy after school, and sad when he read my story.” There are tears in his eyes, and Eddie’s heart breaks a little more. 

Eddie sighs, shifting to lay down next to Christopher and let him lean against his chest. 

“I don’t know, Chris. How about this: you worry about having the greatest dreams ever, and I’ll worry about Buck, OK? I’ll ask him if he’s sad, and report back in the morning, but only if you have an awesome dream.” 

“OK. I’m gonna dream about Bucky being happy!” As if Eddie didn’t already have a lump in his throat. 

“That-that’s a great dream, kid. Come get me if you need anything.” He tousles Chris’s hair as he stands up, clearing his throat on his way back down the hall. 

When he gets to the kitchen, he finds Buck twirling the bottle opener in his fingers and staring out the back door, two unopened beers behind him on the counter. 

“ _Cariño?"_ Eddie steps onto the tile floor, but stops when Buck turns around, staring vacantly past him for a second before he blinks and focuses on Eddie. 

“Hm-- hey, you.” There’s something off about how his tone hits, and Eddie picks up on the difference right away, even if he can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Buck.” Eddie reaches forward and takes the opener, popping both beers and tossing the caps in the recycling. “C’mon, man, what’s going on?” 

“What'd'you mean?” 

“I mean after you helped him with his reading, Chris asked me if you were sad tonight. Something’s off here, and I’m not sure what, but I can’t help you with it if you won’t tell me what the problem is.” 

“Who ever said there was a problem, Eddie?” 

“You didn’t have to. Buck, I _know_ you, and I can tell when there’s something on your mind. Two nights a week now, you leave at 6:45 – no matter what we’re doing – and come back an hour and a half later, and you’re different. You’re … I don’t know, quieter. And-and distant, and there’s this look on your face like you’re guilty about something.” 

“Eddie, I-” Buck drops his gaze again, picking at the label on his beer. 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Eddie holds a hand up, tipping a finger to point at Buck. “And I’m not going to try to make you tell me, but don’t lie. You don’t have to tell me anything, but for the love of God, Buck, don’t lie to me.” He leans back and takes a long pull off his beer, giving Buck a chance to respond. 

“I’m … I … I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie.” Buck’s shoulders sag. “I can’t tell you where I’ve been going. I-I'm sorry, but I’m not ready for that yet. And I’ll … I’ll try to act more normal, but I’m … I won’t lie to you, but I’m not ready to tell you yet. Or-or anyone else. Sorry.” 

“I won’t make you give me any details. But what am I telling Christopher tomorrow when he asks me again why you were sad tonight? Because right now I really don’t have an answer for him.” 

“Chris … Christopher noticed?” 

“Yeah. You might know this, but he’s pretty sharp. And he’s worried about you.” Eddie lets the _and so am I_ hang unspoken between them, but he can tell Buck hears it anyway. 

“Sorry. I, ah, I wasn’t trying to be weird.” 

“Don’t apologize. We care about you, so we’re supposed to be able to tell if something’s going on. Now, what do you need tonight?” He drains his beer and takes half a step toward Buck, who mirrors the step backwards, not letting Eddie close the distance between them. 

“I don’t … I think maybe I might need some space? Um … to-to think about—yeah, you’re right, there’s stuff on my mind, and I … maybe I should work through it?” Eddie’s face falls, and Buck stumbles to continue. “I’m n- I'm not going home! I’m, uh, I’ll stay here. I _want_ to stay here. But, um, on-on the couch, maybe? That way I don’t keep you up all night with-with my thinking?” 

“If that’s what you want, sure. Uh, _mi casa es_ _su_ _casa,_ you know that. Make yourself comfortable, Buck, wherever you want.” The words are right, but something in Eddie’s tone has shifted to sound almost clinical. He’s expressing care and concern, but it doesn’t feel any different than when he’s checking a stranger over after a car accident. He waits for Buck to nod before he turns to walk away, pausing in the doorway to glance over his shoulder and whisper. 

“You know where to find me, if you need anything.” 


	2. "You Know Where to Find Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck and Eddie spend the night apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew how the story ended when I started writing it, and this chapter still HURT to put together.

“You know where to find me, if you need anything.” Eddie sighs and forces himself to walk away, to get ready for bed like he does every night. He asked Buck what he needed, and Buck asked for space, so Eddie will give it to him. No matter how hard it is for him to walk away. 

He moves through his nighttime routine almost robotically. _Brush teeth, wash face, check on Christopher, lamp on, light out, lay down, lamp off._ It’s the same set of motions he always makes, even on the nights Buck does stay at own his apartment for one reason or the other, but everything about it feels wrong tonight, especially when he lays down and _doesn’t_ reach over to wrap his arm across Buck’s midsection and hold him. 

Instead, he lays flat on his back and stares up at the ceiling, trying to work through everything that’s going on. Buck is happier lately, that much is easy to see, but the mood change came long after he started dating Eddie. He disappears two nights a week, for just over an hour, always at the same time – probably an appointment or standing arrangement of some sort. When he gets back, he’s distant and reserved, a sharp change from the bright enthusiasm he usually brings into a room, but he’s always back to normal by the next day. 

There's only one conclusion Eddie can reach: Buck is cheating on him. He’s fallen for someone else, someone who makes him happier than Eddie ever could, but he feels guilty about the betrayal and probably doesn’t want to break up with him because of Christopher or concerns that it would make work awkward. 

His heart sinks with the realization, and he lets out a heavy breath as he considers what his next options are. He could break up with Buck himself, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to not be dating Buck anymore, and he _really_ doesn’t want to explain to Christopher why “his Bucky” doesn’t come over anymore. 

He could confront Buck, throw the accusation in his face. That seems too harsh, though, too much like he’s picking a fight, and he doesn’t want to fight with Buck. 

He could do nothing, act like he hasn’t figured out what’s going on, and see if Buck ever works up the nerve to tell him. It might eat him alive, knowing there’s something important in Buck’s life he isn’t talking to Eddie about – even just as a best friend, so he doesn’t think that’s the right idea. 

He could talk to Bobby. Buck has dinner over there at least once a week, and Eddie doubts there’s any way he wouldn’t have mentioned someone else, even if only in passing. Bobby might confirm Eddie’s conclusion, if he knows anything. Of course, he might tell Buck that Eddie’s onto him, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take if it’ll help him get some answers. 

Knowing what he’s going to do about it does little to ease the pain in Eddie’s chest, but he’s at least able to settle in for a night of fitful sleep. 

* * *

As soon as Eddie’s out of earshot, Buck lets his head drop against the kitchen counter. The cool of the granite grounds him as he tries to blink away the tears threatening to fall. 

_This was never what he had in mind_. 

He leans there until the ache starts settling into his back, then drags himself to flop down on the couch. It takes a few tries for him to arrange his limbs in a way that feels vaguely comfortable, but once he’s situated, he stares up at the ceiling and thinks back through the last eight months. 

_Is there any point at which he could have let Eddie in on his secret?_

No, he concludes, there’s not been a right moment yet. Besides, he knows he can’t talk about this until he’s in a place where he’s OK with things himself. Hell, the only reason Bobby knows is because he needed help figuring out the initial arrangements. 

There’s nothing Buck wants more than to be in bed with Eddie, whispering all the things he’s unable to say out loud even to himself. But he can’t do that. He knows he was right when he told Eddie he needed to think through things tonight, and he knows he can’t let himself be pressured into having this conversation before he knows exactly what he wants out of it. 

But he can’t stand knowing that he’s the reason Eddie’s worrying tonight. He’s not sure how long he spends staring at Eddie’s living room ceiling, but his own self-loathing presses him down until it feels like he’s been trapped for years. 

_Hey, meteorite girl, who needs a weighted blanket when_ _you could just be held down by self-_ _deprecation_ _?_

* * *

Eddie wakes up earlier than usual, the alarm clock boring a bright red 3:52 into his brain, but he knows there’s no sense in trying to sleep any longer. The other side of the bed – _Buck's side,_ his brain helpfully supplies – is too cold and he still feels like the tightness in his chest might kill him. 

Death isn’t an option today, though. Not when he knows Christopher will be up in a couple of hours, probably with lots of questions for Eddie to answer. Questions, if he’s being honest, that he still doesn’t have answers to. 

Even though it’s early, Eddie reaches for his phone to text Bobby, knowing that if he doesn’t do it now, he may never convince himself to try and get the information he’s not sure he wants to hear. 

_Hey, Cap, if you have time before shift today, can we talk about Buck? He’s acting weird and I’m worried_ _._

Eddie deletes the message before he can press “send.” It’s too straightforward, and it might worry Bobby. There’s no sense in freaking anyone else out until he knows if he’s got grounds to worry himself. 

_Bobby! Time before shift today to chat??_

No. Even worse, he sounds like an overeager 13-year-old girl. 

_Hey, Cap. Could use a hand with a personal issue. Have a few mins this morning?_

That’s as good as it’s going to get, Eddie decides, and sends the message, laying back down in hopes that his body can rest even if his mind is racing. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting from Bobby, but he does know that he didn’t expect _anything_ for at least two and a half hours. Which is why he startles when his phone vibrates from where he tossed it on the pillow next to his head. 

**Sure. Must be important if it’s got you up this early. Everything OK?**

_Could ask you the same thing. And idk, hoping talking it out will help._

**Henry had a bad dream. I’m on monster duty tonight. Breakfast before the station? IHOP?**

_Sounds good. Thanks._

Eddie had really thought he’d feel better after reaching out to Bobby. And yet, here he is, the knot in his stomach twisting itself tighter as he realizes he’s backed himself into a corner where he’ll have to give voice to his concerns. 

He lays in bed until 5:45, then gets up and dressed, and makes it to Christopher’s room right as his alarm goes off. 

“Morning, buddy.” 

“Mmm, hi, Dad.” 

“Good dreams?” Eddie can’t help but smile at how Christopher looks sitting up and groping for his glasses, hair all mussed and face scrunched up. 

“Bucky was happy. Do you know why he was sad yet?” Eddie sighs, because of course Christopher would bring it up first thing. Kid’s never forgotten anything a day in his life. 

“Not for sure, but he said he’s got a lot of things to think about.” 

“Oh. Like when I’m sad because I have hard homework and have to think a lot?” 

“Yeah, _mijo_ , maybe like that.” Eddie laughs softly. “C’mon, up and at ‘em. Some of us have school today, and everyone else has work. I’m dropping you off with Abuela this morning so I can talk to Bobby before work.” 

“Daaaaaaad! Can’t Bucky drive me?” He’s fighting his arms into shirt sleeves, but stops halfway through to whine, and Eddie’s incredibly amused by the sight of his son, one arm in a sleeve and a tuft of hair sticking out of the neck. 

“I think he’s still sleeping, kiddo, so how about we let him rest and you can talk to him after we’re off work tonight? Maybe Carla can even bring you to the station after school, if we’re not too busy.” 

“Is Buck sick?” His face contorts with worry. 

“I don’t think so,” But Eddie’s heart lurches with that consideration. “I think he’s just tired, so let’s be super quiet while we get ready.” 

After Christopher nods, Eddie heads for the kitchen to start packing his lunch. He stops to stand at the end of the couch in the living room, where Buck is passed out, feet dangling over the edge. Eddie doesn’t move them, for fear of waking him up, but he gives into his urge to drape a blanket gently over Buck. He knows Buck likes to sleep warm, and he’s proven right when he immediately shifts further under the blanket. 

Eddie pours twin bowls of cereal (just a few bites for himself, because he knows Chris doesn’t like eating alone) and sets them on the table just as Christopher comes down the hallway, trying to be as sneaky as he can. 

“Daaaad!” It’s possibly the loudest whisper Eddie has ever heard, but he’s gotta give the kid credit for trying. “Is it breakfast time?” 

“Sure is, kiddo. Buck is still sleeping, though, so we’ve gotta eat super quietly.” 

“Doesn’t he work with you today?” 

“Yeah, I’ll wake him up right before we leave, but he was really tired last night so we need to let him rest.” Christopher rolls his eyes, but Eddie is able to keep him quiet through breakfast by making goofy faces across the table. Sure, he’ll have to wipe some milk off the table from where Chris sputtered on his Frosted Flakes, but it’s worth it to see the joy on his face and to know that they’re taking care of Buck. He sends Chris to brush his teeth and, on impulse, packs another sack lunch, this time with Buck’s name on the bag. He stares down at the paper napkin and tries to decide what to write. 

By the time he has a note to wrap around Buck’s apple, there’s a stack of rough drafts in the recycle bin. Everything sentence he came up with sounded too manipulative, like he’s trying to guilt Buck into staying. Finally, he draws a simple smiley face, smudges a birthmark over one eye. It's not half as creative as he usually is, and he knows it won’t make Buck blush at him from across the room when he reads it. 

But he knows he’s done the best he can, given the circumstances, so he folds the bag closed and rests his hands on the counter. 

He hears the bathroom door open and moves to grab Christopher’s backpack. 

“Ready to go?” He helps Chris settle the straps around his shoulders and tousles his hair. “I’ve gotta talk to Bucky before we go, but I will meet you at the truck, OK? I promise.” 

Eddie leaves the front door open so he can keep Christopher in his eyeline, and crouches down in front of the sofa. 

“Buck? C’mon, up and at ‘em. You don’t need any more beauty sleep, you’re plenty stunning already.” He waits for Buck to stir around, sitting up so the blanket falls to his lap. “Hey, there he is. We wanted to let you sleep, so it’s almost 7:30 now. I’m taking Chris to Abuela’s, but I’ll see you at work? Left you a lunch on the counter.” 

Buck nods blearily, and Eddie kisses his forehead before he stands up and follows Chris out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all ... soon? Sometime? Whenever I get around to posting the next chapter?  
> xoxo


	3. "What'd You Say To Him?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie snaps at Buck, and things come to a head when he takes off for Bobby's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I made things worse.

“Hey, Cap.” Eddie slides into the booth across from Bobby. “How’s it going?” 

“I’m going to reserve judgement on that until I find out what’s going on.” He takes a long drink of his coffee before he continues. “’Personal issues’? Everything OK at home?” 

“I … I don’t know.” Eddie opens the menu, looking for an excuse to avoid eye contact with Bobby. “Buck’s been … weird lately. And not in the goofy way he usually is.” He takes a deep breath and forces himself to voice his concern. “I think he might be cheating on me.” 

* * *

“I think he might be cheating on me.” In his hurry to sit his mug down before he drops it, Bobby sloshes coffee across his hand as soon as he registers what Eddie’s said. “Shit, Cap, you alright?” Eddie passes him a napkin. 

“I’ll be fine.” Bobby wipes his hand off and reaches to wrap it around his glass of ice water. “Cheating on you? Eddie …" 

“I know, I know it sounds crazy. But he keeps leaving in the evenings for ‘errands’,” Eddie throws his fingers up in air quotes, “and when he comes back, he’s quiet, like he’s worried about something. Even Chris has noticed that he’s sad when he gets home, but when I asked him about it, he just said he needed time to think about some things.” He meets Bobby’s eyes as he finishes speaking. “He slept on the couch last night.” 

“You kicked him out of bed for--” 

“No, he asked if he could sleep there. Said he wanted space.” Eddie looks away again, his tone floating somewhere between angry and heartbroken. 

“Eddie, listen.” But before Bobby can say anything, the waiter appears and asks if they’re ready to order. The next few minutes pass in a frenzy, as both men remember that this conversation does have a deadline and they need to eat before their shift starts. 

When the waiter walks away, Eddie looks expectantly at Bobby. 

“Well?” 

“Hmm?” Bobby’s clearly lost his train of thought, but Eddie is dying to know absolutely anything he’s willing to share about Buck’s recent evasiveness. 

“’Eddie, listen,’ what?” Bobby pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. 

“He’s not cheating on you. At least, not that I know about, but I really don’t think that’s what’s happening. Buck has … he’s been through a lot. And he’s got a lot left to go through. If he hasn’t told you everything yet, I’m sure there’s a reason. My advice would be to give him the space to work on things, but be there for him when he’s ready for you. When he’s ready to talk about this, I’m sure you’ll be the first person he tells.” 

“But you know what’s going on?” 

“Buck has come to me – in _confidence_ \- a few times.” Bobby levels Eddie with a look that makes it clear that he’s not going to get any more information about those chats. “And he’ll go to you too, when he’s ready. There’s no use in trying to push these things, Eddie. Trust me.” 

Eddie opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to decide what to say, before settling on the simple. 

“OK. I … OK.” 

“Seriously, Eddie. If you had anything to worry about, I’d tell you.” 

Eddie nods, and the waiter reappears with their plates. The rest of the meal passes with occasional small talk, but it’s clear that the important part of the conversation has been had. As they stand up to settle the checks and head to the station, Eddie notices that his head feels clearer. Bobby’s right, he knows. He would have told Eddie if he had a reason to keep stressing over this. And there’s no way Buck would cheat on him. He’s heard the stories about Buck 1.0, but that’s in the past and Buck 2.0 is a better man than that. 

* * *

But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stomach the way Buck keeps dodging his questions, the way that sometimes his nighttime sadness bleeds over into breakfast the next day. He doesn’t know what he can do to help, because clearly Bobby’s advice to give him space isn’t getting them anywhere. 

Finally, things reach a head when Buck spends his third night in a row on the couch. He helps Eddie get Christopher settled into bed, then grabs his pillow from the master bedroom. 

“See you in the morning, Eds.” There’s something different in his voice this time, a sort of deeper sadness than the melancholy Eddie’s almost grown used to in the last couple of months. 

“No.” He’s as surprised as Buck looks to hear the words from his own mouth, but it stops him in his tracks and he turns. 

“What?” 

“No. You’re not doing this. You’re not sleeping on the couch if you can’t even tell me why. You don’t want to sleep with me anymore, that’s fine. Sleep with whoever you want, but you’re not doing that while you’re basically living with me.” 

“I … Eddie, _what?”_ Buck drops the pillow to his feet, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s noticed it’s happened. 

“That’s what this is, right? You’re moving on, finding someone with more time for you, less stuff going on in their own life? Or what, a quick lay, someone to keep the bed warm and that’s it?” There’s a rare anger in his voice, toned down only slightly by his own sadness. “Fine. Go, sow your wild oats or whatever, but don’t expect me to wait around.” 

“You know what? You wanna know why I’m not sleeping with you tonight? _This,_ Eddie. This is why. It wasn’t before, but it is now. I’ll see you at the station.” 

Buck picks up his pillow and turns for the stairs. 

Eddie hears the front door slam closed, and knows he’s made a terrible mistake. 

And sure enough, it’s not 20 minutes later when his phone vibrates three times in quick succession. Without reading the notification, he swipes the top one open and sees that all three of them are texts from Bobby. 

**What’d you say to him?**

**Buck’s in my guest room tonight** **.**

**S** **ays he can't stay with you right now.**

Eddie sighs, thankful that Buck has found a place to go for the night, even as he’s acutely aware of how badly he’s screwed up. He thinks for a moment, thumbs hovering over the screen, and texts Bobby back. 

_Told him I needed to know what was going on if he’s going to live with me_

**Eddie …**

**He’s not ready for ppl to know**

**I told you that** **he's** **alright**

**Or he was anyway**

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stop any tears from slipping out. Whatever Buck has been going through, he just made it a thousand times worse, and he knows that he’s the only person to blame for that. 

_Should I come over?_

Three typing dots appear almost immediately, and Eddie holds his breath until the next message pops up. 

**Tomorrow. I’ll talk to him tonight.**

_OK_

_I’ll swing by_ _after_ _I drop Chris off?_

Bobby replies with a thumbs up emoji, and Eddie sets his alarm before locking his phone and laying down to wait for the sleep he knows isn’t going to come. 

* * *

“Buck?” Bobby knocks on the door to the guest room and sighs. “Mind some company?” 

Looking at the man he’s come to think of as a son, sitting on top of Athena’s floral-print guest bedding, Bobby would never guess that he’s 28 years old. He looks closer to six or seven, the way his knees are pulled up to support the pillow he’s wrapped his arms around. Buck’s face is buried into the pillow, but his shoulders aren’t shaking, so Bobby knows he hasn’t been crying. 

He didn’t look like he’d been crying when he showed up on Bobby’s doorstep 20 minutes before, wound tight with anger and what looked like fear, begging to stay for at least one night, until he felt like he had somewhere else to go. 

Buck nods against the pillow, but doesn’t look up until he hears the desk chair scrape across the wooden floor and feels Bobby’s presence settling beside the mattress. 

“Want to tell me what this is all about?” He watches Buck’s shoulders go rigid, and tacks another sentence onto the end. “You can stay even if you don’t. Just looked like you might need to talk things out.” 

“Eddie told me I couldn’t stay with him.” His voice is muffled, but Bobby is able to make out the words. 

“Is that what he said, or is it what you heard?” The reply is gentle, the same tone Bobby uses to talk Henry through his math homework when he threatens to drop out of middle school. 

“He said I couldn’t sleep on the couch unless I told him where I was going after work. He thinks I'm sleeping around, like I haven’t left all that behind me.” 

Buck finally turns his head, resting his ear against the pillow, and stares mournfully at his captain. 

“He’s worried about you, you know. All he sees is that you’re sneaking around, it makes sense that he’d start drawing his own conclusions.” 

“I don’t want him to worry! That’s why I haven’t said anything! The only reason you know is because you helped set me up!” Buck jerks forward, sitting up halfway as his voice rises with sharp anger. 

“Buck, hey, let’s not get riled up. The kids have school tomorrow, alright? C’mon, let’s just talk.” Bobby holds a hand up, waiting for Buck to stop shouting. “He’s going to worry about you. That's what loving someone means: worrying about them, even when there’s no good reason for it. You think Athena and I don’t worry about each other every day at work?” 

Buck shrugs, and Bobby takes it as a signal to continue. 

“He’s going to worry regardless, but if you can let him in a little bit, tell him what’s going on, then he can worry _with_ you, not _for_ you.” 

“You think I should spill the beans?” He sounds terrified at the prospect, Bobby thinks, and he understands. Letting people in is hard, especially when there’s a secret you’ve been keeping for months. 

“I think the only way you’re going to be able to fix this is to talk to Eddie. You don’t have to tell him everything, Buck. Just enough that he knows what’s actually going on, so there’s not quite so much free range for his mind to take off with.” 

“How do I know how much is enough?” 

“You know I can’t tell you that. That’s for you and Eddie to figure out. How much are you ready for him to know?” 

There’s a long pause while Bobby waits patiently for Buck to consider his response. 

“I want him to know where I’m going. But I … I can’t tell him what I talk about. N-not yet. And I don’t want him to be upset.” He’s whispering, almost like he believes Eddie might be able to hear him all the way at Bobby’s house. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, Buck. There’s a possibility that he might be upset. I can’t promise that he won’t. But I think it would be because you kept it from him, not because you’re doing something you need to do.” He waits, gives Buck a moment to let that sink in, before taking a deep breath and finishing his thought. “Eddie’s coming by for breakfast. I won’t talk to him for you, but I’ll intervene if things get out of hand, OK?” 

* * *

Buck’s eyes go wide at the thought of having to face Eddie in the morning, after everything that unfolded between them tonight. It’s the first real fight they’ve had since they started dating, and he’s not sure how to process that in a way that doesn’t cause long-term damage to their relationship. 

Knowing that Bobby will be there makes him feel better, though. Bobby won’t let Eddie lash out too badly, especially if Henry and May are home. 

But that’s not the part that scares him. Buck and Eddie are a pretty even physical match, would have a fair fight if they needed to. 

No, Buck is terrified that Eddie will hear what he has to say and walk away, not saying a word and never looking back. 

Bobby stands up and claps him on the shoulder. 

“I’m gonna turn in for the night. Holler if you need anything.” 

He waits until Bobby’s hand is on the doorknob to reply. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Bobby.” 

“You’re welcome, son.” 

As the door closes, Buck shifts himself to be lying between the sheets, rolled on his side to stare out the open blinds and will himself to get some rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks from between fingers* don't stab me too hard? there's still one more chapter, and I can't post it if I'm bleeding out?
> 
> xoxo


	4. "I'm not seeing someone, I'm seeing someone."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck and Eddie talk over breakfast at Bobby's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The big reveal!

The last waffle has just come out of the iron when Bobby hears a knock on the front door. 

“That’s Eddie,” he calls to Athena, who’s just coming down the stairs in her uniform. 

He’d told her the night before that Eddie would be stopping by for breakfast, when he mentioned that Buck was sleeping over at least for the night. 

“I’ll let him in. I’m out the door anyway.” She stops at the foot of the stairs, meets Bobby for a kiss as he presses a glass container into her hand. 

“There’s lunch, and I can put a waffle on a paper plate if you want one.” 

“No thanks, baby. I’ll grab some coffee at the station. Have fun with your boys.” 

“Doing what I can.” He kisses her again, then steps back so she can head for the front door. 

“Morning, Eddie.” 

“Hey, Athena.” His hands are buried in his pockets, and he can’t look her in the eye. 

“I hate to run, but I got called in a little early today. You know how the job is.” 

“Yeah. Have a good shift.” But his heart isn’t in it. 

“You too.” She closes the door behind her, leaving Eddie standing alone in the foyer. 

“Diaz! We’re in here. Breakfast is almost up!” Bobby calls out from the kitchen, and Eddie follows his voice, to see Buck already sitting at the island, staring blankly into space. Eddie looks to Bobby, who points to the seat across from Buck. “I’ll have plates out in just a minute.” 

Eddie sits, but even though he’s in Buck’s direct eyeline, the other man won’t look at him. There are deep bags under his eyes, dark circles that Eddie is sure are mirrored on his own face. Neither of them seem to have slept, and they’re both already missing the rest, if they way they jump when Bobby slides a stack of waffles in front of each of them is any indication. 

“I’m going to make sure the kids are getting ready, feed them in the dining room. The two of you: sit, eat, and talk. Might I suggest you start with a “good morning.” He pats Buck’s arm as he walks past, heading up the stairs and calling for May and Henry. 

“Morning.” Buck grumbles, poking at the whipped cream swirled over his waffles. 

“Morning.” Eddie echoes his salutation, then sighs. “Chris says hi. He, uh, he wants you to have a good day.” 

Buck looks up at that, and the surprise on his face drives another nail into Eddie’s already fractured heart. 

“He does? I … he should too. Have a good day, I mean.” It’s awkward in a way nothing between them has been since Buck agreed to settle with the city. They’ve always been on the same wavelength, but that’s all gone now. 

All because Eddie couldn’t keep his nose in his own damn business. But before he can say anything in response, Buck is speaking again. 

“Um … sorry I left last night. I kinda freaked out when you got upset. But I, uh, I know why it happened, and Bobby says I should talk to you about it.” Eddie raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t interrupt. “So, um, so you don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to have to worry. I’ve been … you were kind of right. I’ve been seeing somebody.” 

Eddie’s heart sinks. _He knew it. He knew he wasn’t enough for Buck, or maybe he was too much for Buck. Either way, he wasn’t right for Buck, and now Buck is trying to move on without having to let him down in the process._

_Which somehow hurts more than it would have if Buck had just dumped him and moved on._

Buck sees the look on his face, and his eyes go wide as he hurries to correct himself. 

“No! I – not … not like … this is why I haven’t said anything. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and screw it up. I’m not _seeing_ someone. I’m seeing _someone_.” He switches the emphasis, but Eddie just shakes his head and half-shrugs, still confused about what makes the “someone” more important than the “seeing.” Buck sighs and tries again. “I’m seeing a therapist.” 

“Oh.” It’s the first thing Eddie thinks of to say, and it’s out of his mouth before he can consider an alternative. He reaches for his fork, sawing through a bite of waffle and using it as an excuse not to elaborate right away. 

Because he’s not sure why that’s such a big deal. He doesn’t know why Buck felt like he needed to hide therapy, especially considering that Eddie hasn’t made a secret of his visits with Frank. Finally he settles on what he thinks is going to be the least likely to offend, of the questions floating through his head. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” He’s careful to keep his tone neutral, leave any accusations out of it, lest he scare Buck off again. 

“I didn't know if it would take. My, uh my last attempt at therapy kind of ended like the Hindenburg, and I didn't want anyone to know if I screwed it up again. I, uh, I didn’t, but by then it had been too long; it would have been weird if I’d just brought it up out of the blue after like three months.” 

OK, Eddie can’t fault him that logic. But there’s one more thing he wants to know. 

“How long?” 

There’s a long moment before Buck replies, but he drags his gaze up to look Eddie in the eye as he answers. 

“Close to a year. Um, once a week at least, more if … things are going on.” 

“OK.” 

“You’re not upset?” He can tell that Buck is worried that he might be, knows he has to step carefully here to avoid either lying or making another grievous misstep in his communication. 

“I … wish you’d have felt like you could tell me. But I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself. That’s not always easy to do, I know.” He sets his hand on the table, palm facing up, an open invitation for Buck to take, and curls their fingers together. “And I … I want to help you. However I can.” 

Buck looks away from Eddie’s face, stares down at where their hands are resting on the tabletop. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s trying to work up the courage to say something. 

“Can I … would it be alright if I come over after work?” 

Eddie tries to breathe around the way his heart clenches at hearing Buck ask if he can come over. It’s been ages since he’s been even close to a guest. He’s had his own key for almost two months now, but even before that he had an open invitation and knew he was welcome anytime. 

But Eddie pushed him away last night, and he knows that this is Buck’s way of asking not only if he can come over today, but if he’s still welcome in Eddie’s home, still welcome in his and Christopher’s lives. 

And that’s a question Eddie can answer without hesitation. 

“You can come over _anytime,_ Buck,” He pauses, knowing what he needs to say next, but taking the time to put his thoughts in order before he says anything. “I shouldn’t have said … that … last night. I want you around whenever you want to be. Chris, too. He missed you this morning, and I know he’d love to have a homework buddy tonight. Maybe … while I cook something easy for dinner? From a box, I promise.” 

Buck has been fidgeting with Eddie’s fingers, running his thumb across his knuckles, but his hand stills and he looks up at the offer of a meal. 

Eddie isn’t sure why dinner, of all things, seems to be the line Buck is drawing, but he waits it out, gives him a chance to explain or come up with a counter offer or reject the invitation flat out. 

Then Buck smiles, for the first time all morning, and Eddie feels his heart skip a beat. 

“I’d love to be a homework buddy. But, um,” he falters. “I have an errand to run – sorry, habit.” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “I have therapy at 6:45, so I don’t think I can make dinner.” 

Eddie squeezes his hand, silent pride radiating through his touch at the words Buck has managed to give a voice to. 

“That’s OK. Maybe I’ll make brownies. See you after?” 

“After sounds perfect.” Buck smiles again, then chuckles. “You know we’re gonna work together all day, right?” 

“Yeah, I know. And then I’ll see you after work for brownies and social studies. You might want to brush up on your states and capitals. Kid’s kicking my ass.” 

“Between the two of us? We’ll smoke him.” 

“Not too badly though. He’s only in fourth grade.” 

“Fine, we’ll let him win, and then I’ll let you be the real winner and hold me on the couch while I decompress.” 

“That sounds like a perfect way to end the night.” Eddie draws their hands up to kiss Buck’s knuckles. 

“I dunno,” Buck waits for Eddie’s expression to shift to confusion before he finishes the thought. “It’ll depend on how good the brownies are.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, it's done! This was so much fun to write. No game quite like texting your friend "let's play Whose Line: what can you say about both your therapist and your sidepiece?" Except maybe posting out of context snippets to torment your writer friends. 
> 
> But I know y'all love me anyway  
> xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes I know I'm mean. Feel free to fling pitchforks in the comments, or find me on tumblr (as long as the pitchforks are affectionate. If you're too mean, I might cry)  
> xoxo


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